


A Natural Need

by smileykylie29



Category: Fifty Shades of Grey - E. L. James
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:56:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23887060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smileykylie29/pseuds/smileykylie29
Summary: Four times Anastasia needed her mother, and the one time she didn't. Warning: mentions of child abuse, eating disorders if you squint, and Carla hate... because we always hate Carla here. one-shot
Relationships: Christian Grey/Anastasia Steele
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	A Natural Need

"You're right, Ana. I am your mother. But that isn't all that I am. And you're going to have to understand that you cannot always come first." Mom says softly, as she runs her hand over my head and through my long brown hair. I knew better than to go to her about how I've been feeling. This is a conversation I never wanted to even have.

I turned 13 last Saturday, but sometimes I feel like I'm the mother.

"Stephen is so angry with you. Ana, I wish… if you were so unhappy why didn't you just say something?"

I'm lying in my bed with the covers over everything but the top of my head, just counting down the hours until I'm out of here. They've found me out somehow, Ray probably told not realizing what that would mean for me.

After Stephen made another visit to my room in the middle of the night last night, I decided that this was going to be it. I called Ray as soon as I woke up this morning and begged him to come and get me.

I didn't tell him the big secret.

Just that I wasn't happy and that I didn't want to be here anymore. That's all I've been thinking about for weeks now. That I don't want to be here anymore.

Mom used to be my best friend. She would play with me and do my hair. Teach me about makeup and tell me stories of when she used to be a teenager like me. But mom has always been the kind of friend that doesn't stick around once someone new comes along. She only really wants to be friends with me when she doesn't have a boyfriend. And now that she had Stephen, most days it seemed like she looked straight through me.

Lately, the older I get the more I just want her to be my mom. And I don't even really think she wants to be that. It's like I cramp her style or something.

When she was married to Ray, it all worked out. Ray is a carpenter. And he builds and sells out of his garage at home, so he was always around for me to play with. Mom would go from job to job, and hobby to hobby and I'd have someone to stay with when she wanted to be gone for longer than a couple days. Sometimes it would just be me and Ray for whole weeks at a time. Those weeks were my favorite.

But then she got a boyfriend. And Ray didn't want to be married to her anymore. They fought over me but because Ray never really signed any papers, I had to go with my real parent. See Ray's not my real dad. He's just my dad that chose me. But he feels like my real dad. He feels more like my dad than Stephen. Or Mark, or Jason, or Rodney.

All of mom's boyfriends, and now her new husband never really wanted me around. And when they did want me around, it was for a reason that I didn't want to be there for. Like Stephen.

Stephen was very nice to me at first. He would buy me bracelets, and dresses. He would take me to the movies, and call them "daddy and daughter dates". He really wanted me to call him dad. And he didn't want me calling Ray at all. He even told mom that Ray was not to come to his house to see me. But mom would let me call Ray anyways as long as we didn't tell Stephen.

Now that they were married, things were just bad all around. Stephen is mean to me. He tells me he doesn't like how I dress; he tells me I walk around the house too loudly. If he sees me eating something when it's not time to eat together, he tells me that's why my face is so fat. And he comes into my room at night sometimes.

The first few times it happened, I tried to tell mom. But she said I might be dreaming, because she sleeps in the same room as him and she says he never leaves. But I know I'm not dreaming. She must have said something to Stephen about what I told her, because he got very upset with me. He told me that if I loved mom, I would stop complaining to her about every little thing I didn't like. He told me that if it weren't for him, that mom would have no where to go and we would be staying in that motel he met mom in, again. I hated living at the motel, and I know mom did too.

"Ana you realize that if Ray comes down here and gets you, Stephen won't let you come back. You know they don't get along. I wish you'd have never brought Ray into this. Stephen is not going to let you come back to me when you change your mind, baby." Mom's voice brought me back to the bed we're laying in. She's holding me as best as she can since I won't come out from underneath the covers.

"I won't want to come back," I say as bravely as I can. "I don't want to live here with him, mom." Mom let her hand fall from my hair, and she sighed deeply. "He's my husband, Anastasia. I'm not just your mother. I can't always put you first. If all I ever thought about was you, honey… that's all I'd ever have. A woman isn't built to live that way."

I had no experience on what it must be like to be a woman. But, I think if one day I was a woman that decided to be a mother, I think I'd be built to be just that. I didn't say that to my mom, though. I just laid quietly until she was convinced I was asleep. Ray would be here by the morning.

2

"I just don't think I'm going to make it, honey. I'm trying to get this divorce settled and Nevada law is really kicking my tail, here. I don't even think I can leave until I've signed the papers." Mom rambled, out of breath and frustrated. She had finally picked up the phone after I'd called her at least a dozen times.

I'm graduating high school on Friday, and I worked all winter at the co-op to get enough money for mom's plane ticket. I didn't just stupidly assume she would come. At 18, I'd learned Carla well enough to know that she was more of a "I'm with you in spirit" parent. But this whole thing was her idea. She called me in November cheerily telling me she was through with Stephen. I think she expected me to be proud of her. When I didn't make all over her newest life decision, she brought up graduation. She said we could use it as a time to reconnect.

I've tried. I really have. I've tried to put all of it behind me. To love her for who she is, and not what I expect her to be. She tells me I project my expectations onto her, and then get disappointed when she can't read my mind. Really, I just want her to be my mom. As a child, I would blame it on whatever new man she had in her life. But even now, as she's going through her third divorce with no man in sight, she'd still rather put herself first.

I got a scholarship. To Washington State University. It won't cover everything, but I'm going to get a job once I move to Vancouver and take out a student loan for the rest. Ray threw me a party the day I got my acceptance letter. He gave me a check for a thousand dollars and told me he'd take me down to the bank on Monday and show me how to set up my own account. We've never been poor, but we've never had a thousand dollars just laying around, so I know that was something Ray sacrificed for.

"Mom, can't you just ask someone? Call the judge or something and tell him your daughter is graduating high school and you have to be there?" mom laughed before I could get out my full plea. "Sweetheart, it's just a high school graduation. There will be other big, big days that I'll be there for. You're going to go to college, right? You'll want me there to see that, huh? Our first college graduate! I can see it now." At this point, I know I've lost her.

"Yeah mom, I'll want you there for that." I say, hoping to end the conversation. She tells me she's got to get off the phone so she can "check out". Mom had always been a shopping fiend, something else we just didn't have in common.

3.

"Alright Ana, this is it!" Mia said excitedly. Sawyer pulled the blacked-out SUV to the back entrance of Neiman Marcus. Two designer dressed women were standing on the curb, waiting to usher us in.

Caroline Acton embraced me gently, kissing both sides of my face. "Congratulations, Miss Steele. Again, on behalf of the whole team here at Neiman Marcus, we are just ecstatic that you have chosen us to house the dress. Come in ladies, Dr. Grey, and Mrs. Trevelyan are already mingling in the foyer" I smiled tightly, wishing they would just throw the dress in the back of the van and let us make off like bandits.

Today was my first fitting for my wedding dress. I'd seen it a dozen times in pictures, but only once in person. It was a Tom Ford original straight out of his showcase home in London. What all these things meant where a mystery to me. But Mia, and Kate had had a fit over it, and I was slowly growing to love the idea of Christian seeing me in it on our wedding day.

Once it was shipped over, we made our way to Neiman Marcus the very same day for the fitting. It was supposed to be my perfect measurements. But, with the wedding coming up, and the ever-mounting stress of associating with the Greys of Seattle, I had lost some weight. Arguably, it wasn't my fault. In reality, I was returning to some old eating habits to feel just the least bit of control to get me through this whole thing.

Caroline was a sweetheart, however. Even apologizing to me on behalf of the wedding attire party that it did not fit. She re-took my measurements and promised me the alters would be made within the week, and we rescheduled a day for all of the ladies to come back.

Kate however, was less of a sweetheart. She threatened me within an inch of my life once we got outside of the building, and then promptly called Christian and tattled. As disloyal as it felt at the time now, a week later, I can see that Kate was just worried and knew if she let Christian in on the secret, he would pester a few pounds back onto my frame. Only now, there was another stressor. Would those few pounds cause the dress to not fit me once again?

I'm worried about all the wrong things, I know.

Grace was ecstatic. She claimed the re-fitting was a sign of fate, because now we had time to fly Carla out.

I didn't know how to nicely tell her to forget it, so I promised I'd call her after I'd spoken to Christian.

"I doubt she'll be able to come on such short notice. They are probably busy this time of the season. You know Bob and his…golf." I said with a flick of my wrist.

Christian and I had just had a longer than usual bath, and he was now shaving in front of his sink as I sat on the counter and watched.

"I can't say I do know Bob and his golf, sweetheart. I also don't believe golf has a season." He puckers his lips and runs the blade down his laugh line.

"Well I suppose not. But I'm sure the are busy, last minute and all." After a beat, Christian sighs.

He sets the razor down on the counter, and leans against it, facing me. He places his hand on my foot and begins rubbing the side of it with his thumb.

"Maybe this is my fault." He says quietly, staring deep into my eyes. "Have I made you feel like Carla isn't welcome in our home? Or made her feel a way? Because, I promise Ana, that was never my intention."

"What?" I began, "no! You've not made me feel like that at all, Christian. Why would you think that?" I'm saddened to think Christian had the idea that my family was avoiding us because of him, and I try to wrack my brain for a time where I would have made him feel that way.

"I'm trying to remind myself that she didn't even come to your college graduation, and she didn't even know about me then. So, is that just her M.O.? Or is it really me? I'm marrying her daughter in two weeks. She doesn't want to meet me?"

"What? She met you, Christian. You met last year in Georgia!"

Christian huffs out a sarcastic breath and shakes his head at me. "For five minutes. At a hotel bar, we barely spoke two words to each other. I would hardly call that meeting the mother of the girl I'm going to marry."

"She invited you to dinner," I deadpanned. "It's not her fault you had to come back to Washington to deal with Leila!"

Christian rolled his neck and let go of my foot. He placed both hands on the counter and bent forward slightly. If his posture could talk, it would say "I'm so over this conversation."

"Alright, Anastasia," he began in an almost too calm tone. "If you don't want to want to have this conversation, we won't. But it doesn't mean you get to turn it around on me and create an argument." He looked up from the floor and stood straight. Then, with a hand to the back of my head and a kiss to my forehead, he walked out of the bathroom.

Great, I thought, mom's not even here and she's still finding a way to mess things up for me.

After twenty or so laps around the bathroom, I decided I needed to go to my fiancé and apologize. I stepped out of the bathroom and began my trek to find him. Once in the hallway I could hear his voice. It was coming from his office, so I quietly made my way to the door. We weren't expecting company, so he must be on the phone. As I made my way to open the door, Christian's words stopped me in my tracks.

"I would of course take care of the financial aspect of your travels, Carla." Christian said with a slight irritation to his voice. Crap, he called her. I should have known he wouldn't drop it that easily. Especially if he thought he might be the reason mom had been so distant.

"Well I would assume you're still coming for the wedding. Ana says you're currently not working, I don't see why you couldn't just fly out for an extended stay, and just spend the two weeks here with Ana."

I couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, but I could imagine the excuses flying out of mom's mouth.

"Sure," Christian said, "well forgive me if I am overstepping, but the planning really is more for Ana and the girls to enjoy. If Bob is unable to make the trip so soon, perhaps you could come alone, and he could come closer to the wedding."

"Well no, Mrs. Adams… I don't. I don't understand." By this time Christian sounded dead pissed off, so I opened the door, and made my way in.

We made eye contact briefly before I looked away and made my way over to the couch. I sat, prostrate and fidgety, embarrassed to hear Christian practically bartering for my mom to come spend time with me.

"Well I'm not going to beg you, Carla. I really only called to clear the air between us, if need be. But I can see that there must be some other reason you have chosen not to be here for your daughter, so… I will leave you to it." Christian said, and pulled the phone away, promptly ending the call.

The room was silent. Awkwardly so. Christian stood behind his desk, shuffling his foot, suddenly very interested in a spot on the floor.

"So… what did she say?" I asked, laughing in an attempt to break up the tension.

Christian raised his eyes and looked at me. He smiled tightly, and ruffled his nose.

Pity. That would be the name I would give to his expression.

"You know. I think you might be right, baby. I think golf does have a season."

I don't know why exactly… I can't really put it into words when I feel this way about her, but I begin to cry.

Christian makes his way over to me, and adjusts himself to hold me on the couch. I cry for my mom. And then I cry for how stupid I feel for wanting my mom right now. And, then I begin to cry for how she just can't seem to want me.

Eventually I'm just crying to be crying, I suppose.

4.

Christian and I sat shoulder to shoulder on the bed. I had my phone in my hand, but I had yet to press a button.

We had officially told all of our family about the baby. Everyone was ecstatic. Grace and Carrick are so excited they can hardly stand themselves. Grace calls me sometimes three times a day just to talk about it. What she hopes the baby will be, and who she thinks the baby will look like. She's really become a second mother to me since the wedding. She's the first call I make, when I need something Ray can't help me with. And as a married woman with a baby on the way, there are suddenly a lot of things daddy just can't help me with.

Ray might have Grace tied in excitement, however. He's still recovering from his injuries, but he says the first thing he'll do when he's back to work is build our baby crib. Christian is obsessed with the notion as well. My stoic businessman has suddenly become overly sentimental at the idea of our child sleeping in a bed hand made by their grandfather. I've got a suspicion that by the end of it, he will have asked Ray to make all of the furniture for the nursery.

Elliot, Kate and Mia have taken to their uncle, and aunt status like they were born for it. We are weeks away from finding out the gender, but that hasn't stopped Mia from buying every outfit in sight. So far, she has a lot of neutral colors. Yellows, and muted primaries. While Elliot and Kate have still not made the move to live together, they teamed up to pitch us the idea of having a small nursery built into Elliot's bachelor pad for "spend the night parties", as they put it. I didn't have the heart to tell them that something told me Christian wouldn't let our child have "Spend the night parties" anywhere until they were old enough to pay their own rent.

If he didn't let me out of his sight now, what would he do once our baby was out of the womb and walking around on their own?

The pregnancy was finally teaming up to be a positive light for all of us, after it's rocky start. But, we had one more person to break the news to. And neither of us were terribly excited.

"I'll call her, Ana. It makes no difference to me. I'll call her from my number and she won't pick up, and I'll just leave a message. I'll say, Congratulations you're going to be a grandmother, and then I'll just hang up and that will be the end of it." Christian was so convinced this phone call would turn into tears for me.

We had waited as long as we could to call Carla. Aside from work, I hadn't left the house in days now that I was beginning to get a little belly. Before long, it would be common knowledge and the news would make it all the way to Savannah.

Christian and Carla were not on the best of terms. After shirking her responsibilities while I was in the hospital, Christian had all but wiped his hands of her. He never spoke bad about her. But Kate had let it slip that while I was unconscious from the attack, he had an all-out screaming match over the phone with mom. She said it was ugly, and he really let her have it.

She said he did it right in front of our whole family, too, even Ray. Which made me feel so awkward when I let myself think about it for too long.

"No, she's my mom. Ill call her." I say, taking deep breaths.

The phone was ringing now, there was no turning back.

"Hi, Angel! What is my big girl up to today?" mom's cheery voice broke through the receiver. She had been overly nice to me the past few times I spoke to her. Probably due to the verbal lashing Christian gave her.

"Oh nothing much, mom. Just a bit of an errand day." I replied, looking for my "in" to the conversation.

We began talking about everything and nothing at all. I could feel Christian's impatience radiating off of him.

"Hey listen mom, I did need to talk to you about something before I let you go." I finally said.

"Of course, dear," she replied, "You can talk to me about anything." Christian huffed loudly and let his head hit the headboard.

"Sure. Well, we do have some news. It's good news so don't worry. But It is news so we figured we ought to call you."

"ok…" she said quizzically. "honey, I'm sure whatever it is, I'll be glad to hear it if its good news. As long as you're not pregnant, I'll be glad to hear it!" mom's laughter flitted through the receiver.

Christian reached out for the phone, but I batted his hand back down onto the mattress.

"Well, thank you for that, but yes, that is exactly the news. I've called to tell you I am pregnant. Twelve weeks pregnant, to be exact."

Mom didn't say anything for a moment, and I let the silence fall between us until she spoke.

"I really wish you wouldn't have done this, Anastasia. I don't think you realize what you've done. You have known this man for five minutes, and you decide you want to have a baby with him?" she sounded hysterical, as if I had told her I was going to prison, or had gotten a tattoo on my forehead.

"Christian is my husband, mom. He's not just some man that I met on the street. We're married, and we are starting a family… like married couples do."

"It's fine to want a family, Ana. But… get a dog or something. I mean really. I thought if anything, you'd learn from my biggest mistake. You know how hard it was for us! Being a single mother. Trying to find a roof to put over your head each night. What happens when this man decides he doesn't want you anymore? Are you prepared to be just like me? Living from place to place, man to man just to provide for your child? Talk about starting a family! Take it from me, sweetheart. A baby will ruin your marriage, and it will ruin your life if you're not careful."

Her bitter rant stung. It felt like hot coils falling down my throat and into my stomach. I'd always known how she felt about me, but to hear it so clear and matter-of-fact was shocking to say the least.

Christian put his hands over his face, and leaned back into the headboard once again.

"Is that what you think of me," I ask, quietly. "You think I'm your biggest mistake? I ruined your life, mom?"

Once again Christian was reaching for the phone. "Stop," he whispered. "Hang up on her, there is no sense in this."

I jerked my wrist out of his grasp and shifted over to sit on the side of the bed.

"Of course that isn't what I think of you, Ana. How many times have I told you that you were my pride and joy?"

"How many times have you shown it?"

She was silent.

"I'm excited for this, mom. I'm more excited for this than I have been for anything in my entire life. More than any birthday, any graduation, my wedding. I'm more excited for this baby than I was to marry my husband, and I think you know how excited I was to do that. I think I begged you to be a part of it enough. But I won't beg you to be a part of this, I won't ask you anymore beyond this conversation. Because I know that I am going to be a good mom. And I know that Christian loves me, and he wants me more than any man ever wanted you. And he wants our baby, I know that. My child isn't ever going to question why you don't love them enough to stick around, I'd rather they don't know you at all. So you think about what you're going to do. And you don't call me until you've made your mind up. This is it, Carla. I've begged you to be my mother for so many years, this is the last time I'll do it. So please. Please. Make the right choice."

And with that, I hung the phone up.

Christian's arms were around me in an instant. But, this time… I wouldn't cry.

I felt numb. So upset at the cold, truthful words my mother had laid out for me. As honest as she was, I should have shut her down right then. Should have cut her out and given up. But what did I do? I gave her a window. I forgave her before I even hung up the phone. I pleaded with my own mother to love me, for the thousandth time in my life.

This was always what made me feel the worst about myself.

1

Something felt wrong. Something had shifted, dropped. Just an hour ago, I was but a mere whale of a pregnant lady, and now… something had changed.

As quickly as the thought passed my mind, a whoosh of liquid made its way out of the bottom of my dress, and down to the kitchen floor. I was frozen.

"oh, shit."

I looked up and made eye contact with Luke Sawyer in the foyer. "Oh, shit." I repeated back to him.

He hurriedly made his way over to me, but with a look as if he'd seen a ghost, he stopped feet away from the pool of water I was standing in.

"What do I do?" he asked, panicked.

"Do I look like I know what to do?" I was frozen to the floor. I couldn't feel my feet and was very convinced I would fall over any minute. "go get my husband!" I yelled, more rude than I've ever spoken to him. "Sorry, also. But go get him!"

Sawyer made his move to the upstairs office where Christian was holding a conference call with a benefactor in Italy. So much for that, I thought.

I heard the booming footsteps as he made his was down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Ana! Ana where are you!?" he screamed dramatically. The piece of my brain that can't ever take anything seriously placed him as a character in mine and Grace's favorite soap opera.

"Hush! I'm right here, Kelly Monaco."

"Who? What?" he asked, making his way over to me.

He was barefoot, and now wading in the water as well.

"Gross, Christian! Put some shoes on!" he felt of my belly, and looked me deep in the eyes.

"Are you in pain? You've dropped a LOT, Ana. When did you notice he'd gotten that low?"

I swatted his hands away and reached for my phone on the counter.

"What are you doing? Who are you calling?" I could already tell I wouldn't be able to lean on this man to keep me calm through this. So much for the thousands of dollars we wasted on birthing classes.

"Grace. Hi. My water just broke and I'm scared, and your son is not making anything better."

I could hear Christian trying to reach me, slipping on my membranous fluid, and catching himself on the counter, but instead I chose to block him out and focus on the true source of knowledge. My rock of a mother-in-law.

Sixteen hours later, I am hooked up to a fetal monitor and puking my guts out. My labor isn't progressing, and my son with his father's big head, is not even in position for me to start pushing. I've been given a Pitocin drip in hopes of speeding things along, but so far it has created nothing but a headache and the worst nausea I have ever had in my life.

I'm curled onto my side. One leg bent to the mattress, and one leg bent to the ceiling. I'm clawing Christian's hand off every time a contraction hits, and I am terrified. This is not at all what we prepared for.

"I'm so tired." I've allowed myself to verbally complain, after swearing I wouldn't do it. Once hour fourteen hit, almost all of my rules I had set for myself went out the window. The past two hours have been a constant stream of tears, and vomiting. I'm not sure how Christian hasn't ran for the hills.

"I know, love. I know you're tired." He brushes my hair out of my face and runs his hands down any part of me he can reach to settle my constant shaking.

My doctor has given me an ultimatum. Either they take me back now, for my cesarean, or they give me one more hour to labor and do it then. Christian has taken their side, but made it clear to me that as long as neither I nor Teddy are in danger, he will support me in what I choose.

I want to deliver him myself so badly I can't stand it. We knew this would be a possibility. We knew he was charting bigger than the average baby, and I was smaller than the average mother. But I foolishly hoped that when it was all said and done, Teddy and I could get it together long enough to have a natural meeting.

As the realization hit me that nothing was going to go the way I planned it, I began to sob uncontrollably. I knew I was scaring Christian, but I couldn't console myself or reassure him at all.

"What can I do baby? Tell me what you need me to do. I'm so sorry, angel, tell me what you need from me. Do you want me to get Ray?" he asked.

I shook my head violently, unable to speak beyond the sobs falling out of my mouth.

"Your mom? Do you want me to get you mom?"

Christian had called mom, along with the rest of our family on the way to the hospital. After a moment of doubt, Carla had asked Christian to book her the next flight out of Salt Lake City, where she now resides since her divorce from Bob. I was given the update once she made it to the hospital, but I had specifically asked that no one be in the room with me except for Christian. So, Carla sat, with the rest of the family in the private waiting room two doors down.

"Ana, did you hear me, love? Do you want your mom?"

I had spent a lot of days wanting my mom. Even during my pregnancy, there were days I would swallow my pride and call her up, needing to feel close to her somehow. I'd felt like a little girl again, needing mom to hold her hand and make it all ok. This of all days, should be one of them. But it wasn't.

"Grace. Can you get Grace? I just… am scared, Christian. Can you please just get you mom, I need her to just be in here with me."

"Yes, of course." He said softly and kissed me on the forehead before walking quickly out of the room.

Only moments later he came back, my honorary mother in tow. I burst into tears, again at the sight of her.

"Oh sweetheart," Grace cooed, "I'm right here, darling."

She made her way over to me, and then up into the bed behind me.

"I can't do it, Grace. They want to take him. I can't do it by myself." I cried, miserably.

She curled herself around me and wiped the tears falling down my face.

"You are doing it, sweet girl. You've labored for seventeen hours, you're doing fine. You need to give the ok for this cesarean, and you need to deliver this baby just the way it was intended. The safe way. You're doing it, angel. You're doing so good." She coddled me, as I asked her to hit the call button for my doctor.

"Please don't leave. Stay here with us." I begged her.

"I'm not going anywhere. There's no place I'd rather be than right here with you."

Sometimes a woman needs to be held like a little girl. She needs to be petted, and comforted. She needs a feminine touch, to reassure her. It's a natural thing, the need to be loved by a mother. And what better person to fulfill that need than Grace? What better person than a mother?


End file.
